


If We Can't Find the Answers Together, Can't We, At Least, Ask the Right Questions Standing Side by Side?

by MistyBeethoven



Series: "Yes, I Really Am This Pathetic!" or "How to Say I Love You With a Story" [31]
Category: Thumbsucker (2005)
Genre: Age Difference, Avoidant Personality Disorder, BBW, Bachelor's Day, Boss/Employee Relationship, Breastfeeding, Breasts, Chair Sex, Dentist Chair Sex, Dentistry, Dentists, F/M, Finger Sucking, For Adults Only, Hand & Finger Kink, Idiots in Love, Insecurity, Large Breasts, Leap Day, Leap Year, Loss of Virginity, Love, Love Confessions, Love Stories, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Nipples, Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder, Office, Office Sex, Older Man/Younger Woman, Orthodontists, Overweight, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, Uniforms, Virginity, Weight Issues, Workplace Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-22 15:22:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22918255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistyBeethoven/pseuds/MistyBeethoven
Summary: Asked to be his receptionist by Othodontist Perry Lyman on the sole fact that I used to wear braces, I am both confused and endeared by my new boss. We are both a mess but fall into a functioning working relationship.It's only when we begin dancing around a personal one that we both don't know what the Hell we are doing.
Relationships: Perry Lyman/Me
Series: "Yes, I Really Am This Pathetic!" or "How to Say I Love You With a Story" [31]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589944
Kudos: 7





	If We Can't Find the Answers Together, Can't We, At Least, Ask the Right Questions Standing Side by Side?

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Leap Day everyone! :D <3
> 
> Perry Lyman...I love Perry. He really goes through a lot in the film just like the main protagonist. Perry thinks he knows it all at the start and by the end can freely admit he's clueless and it is okay.
> 
> I think that makes him very smart and with an answer, despite his newfound abhorrence of them. But I won't tell him that.
> 
> Plus his whole speech helps me feel better when I once again know that I am broken. So...thanks to everyone involved with "Thumbsucker" for helping this poor messed up woman find some comfort when she needs it.
> 
> By the way, this wasn't meant to be explicit. It, once again, just turned out that way once we fell on to that Dentist chair. :/ <3

"Did you used to wear braces?"

I was at my local library, reading a book quietly in the corner, when the man approached me. He was tall, good looking, somewhat frazzled in the way of a man who has no answers and anywhere from his early thirties to early forties.

"Yes," I replied.

"Good," he said with a smile. "I'm Perry Lyman: an orthodontist. Would you like to be my receptionist? I don't have one and thought I should remedy that. My hands are more used to being in mouths than holding a phone and doing paperwork. Once you help to clean up the mess I made of things, you'll find that out for yourself."

It was an odd statement. "Ummmm," I replied. "Having had braces is the only requirement?"

He didn't bother answering; he only fixed me with a stare that told me that I needn't bother asking.

"The pay is good," he stated after seeing my hesitation and when he told me what it was I couldn't argue with his statement.

Nor could I say no.

He gave me the address of his office and rose from off of his chair, heading towards the door.

"One more thing," he stated and turned around before he left. "Do you think you have all the answers...or even just a few?"

I thought about it for a second. It seemed important to him for some reason. I was a Christian but even within that framework God would probably be pissed off at me if I were to answer yes and assume that I did. "No," I replied truthfully. "I don't even know the right questions."

He smiled warmly. "Good," he said before heading out the library doors, lighting a cigarette before he had even made it all the way out.

* * *

Of course, that night I spent chastising myself for agreeing to the stranger's offer. I didn't know what I was thinking. Perry Lyman _was_ an orthodontist; I'd looked him up in the phone book and online to make sure of it. He was on the register but he also had a previous reputation for being unorthodox. Past reviews said he was into new age tactics and used to do a lot of races and activities. Then for some reason he stopped went into a different more farmy technique. Finally he had turned into the Lyman I had met: completely and utterly human and vice ridden. Or so the scent of alcohol on his breath and the cigarette he had lit had led me to believe.

Still his reviews were _pretty_ decent.

Except for the criticism that he had no receptionist.

I guessed, that was where I came into play.

What had made him approach me was another question.

Oh right: the fact that I had once worn braces.

His unorthodox manner still was winning in ways, it appeared. My smile had apparently given it away. People said I had a nice one. I tended to overuse it due to my extreme shyness, wanting to be liked and wishing to please people. Being diagnosed with OCD, generalized anxiety and AVPD I wondered why I had agreed to his job proposal. 

Oh right: the money.

But that wasn't completely true. I had also just _liked_ Perry Lyman. Something about him had made me feel safe. Why that was was another question I could not answer.

But then again Perry liked that I didn't have all the answers or made assumptions that I did.

Comforting myself with this fact, and Lyman's appealing face, I drifted off to sleep the night before my first day of work.

* * *

When I walked into Perry Lyman's orthodontic practice, the place looked very vacant and I had to press a button to get Lyman's, who was in the back somewhere, attention.

He didn't say hello or anything, just opened the partition and instructed, "Come in."

I did and watched as he sat down at where I presumably would be sitting for my new job and started to fill out my information for his records. It was to be one of his final bit of paperwork as his own receptionist.

"Name?" Lyman started with and I told him.

"Erin," I answered, shocked to realize that he had hired me without even knowing it.

We filled out the rest of the paper pretty well that way. After it was finished he handed me the sheet and said, "File it," as he went to leave to return to a client or just to a room so he could be alone.

"Where? HOW?" I asked. "What am I supposed to be doing?"

He popped his head back into the doorway. "Those are good questions."

Then he left without answering any of them.

* * *

Perry Lyman wasn't very good with answers. He had decided that there really weren't any. For the most part he just let me stumble here and there, sometimes I got it right.

Sometimes I got it wrong.

Even then he was pretty nice about it. He didn't shout at me or lose his cool. Mistakes were a given he said. We learned from them. They often became embedded in our minds and were rarely repeated as opposed to when we did something right.

"This is your first time as a receptionist anyway," he reassured. "I think?"

I laughed. "Yeah. My mom was a dental assistant, actually, once. Talk about mistakes though...she didn't sterilize the equipment properly this one time and gave everybody that came in that day lock jaw."

Perry laughed and lit a cigarette. "But she probably never did it again."

He was right.

The problem I had with my OCD mind was that it was always telling me that I hadn't done something _right_ so this bad thing would happen or that it meant this or that if I didn't do it again. I'd end up doing it several times just to stop my mind from racing or to feel at peace. But being near Dr. Lyman I felt better. It was nice to be around somebody who seemed to rejoice in being imperfect and didn't judge or condemn anybody for not being perfect too.

* * *

Since Perry Lyman's practice had few clients, assumably due to his habit of smoking, drinking or dishing advice out during any given appointment, we often got to talking. I found out he'd been an only child whose father had mercilessly high expectations of him. He'd eventually driven dear old dad mad with his new age philosophies and they hardly spoke anymore. Since then, though, the orthodontist had been trying to fit some ideal only to be led to his current state of having given up some perfect identity and accepted himself as a faulty and normal human being.

In the end, he believed that we were all broken and looking for answers we could never find.

I told him he was probably right; I felt broken too. My OCD brain was often triggered and flooded with unwanted thoughts. I tried to deal with them but it was hard. He nodded in understanding. He'd seen me distracted a few times or repeating actions or doing silly things. Obviously, he'd put two and two together. I didn't know how to tell Perry that when he was around I felt better. He calmed me in a way.

We made quite the pair, he and I. Our working relationship was well functioning and we had fun. Both messed up we could understand each other. The mood was light and affectionate. Once when I'd handled an unpleasant call, I given my boss the bad news.

"The Health and Safety Board filed another complaint," I informed him.

"Whatever the Hell for?" he asked, a cigarette poised at his lips as he sat in his examining room.

"Maybe they don't like the artwork," I replied seriously.

"Or the tiles in the bathroom?" he stated somberly.

"Could be they prefer Charmin to Royale," I mused.

"Go out and buy some," Perry commented. "Maybe that will appease them."

"Yes sir," I agreed and gave him a little salute.

I heard him laughing to himself in the examining room as I left.

Yes. It worked out smoothly there for a few months.

The problems started when things turned from professional, albeit in the most relaxed sense, to personal.

And it all started with a silly old dentist chair.

* * *

I'd never been all that lucky at the dentist's. Maybe it was inherited. Grandpa, before he moved from the Isle of Man to Canada, had gotten all of his teeth removed and false ones made because he had heard that there were no dentists there. Or so he told my eight year old self whom had been trusting enough to believe him. Mom's enamel was also crap. And the dental assistant for my childhood dentist had once made my same grandfather laugh by telling him that from the amount of fillings my sister and I needed we likely only had the toothbrush in our mouths for forty seconds.

Although, thinking back on it, maybe Grandpa was hysterical over the fact that he was standing in a dentist's office when there were no such things in Canada.

Anyway, all of this made me nervous one day when Perry Lyman gave me an unusual order.

"Get in the chair," Perry commanded out of the blue.

The waiting room was empty and business was slow.

"Whatever for?" I asked.

"When was the last time you were at the dentist's?" the orthodontist inquired.

My lack of an answer gave away the answer.

"Get in the chair," he ordered again. "Consider this your dental coverage."

"Are you that bored?" I asked incredulously.

"Do you think I am?" he countered.

We held each other's gaze

I hopped into the darn thing, worried that it wouldn't hold my large frame but relieved when it did with a little wiggle room left over for good measure.

Perry rolled his own portable chair over to me and repositioned the chair so my head was tilted downward. "Open wide," he commanded.

"Ahhhhh," I said and my employer started his examination.

As it went on, I became more and more uncomfortable. Perry's handsome face was so close to mine and it brought back memories of trips to the dentist's during my childhood again. More...ahem...personal ones. Having a guy hovering over me as he stuck his latex covered finger inside of my mouth and subsequently feeling around inside of it had always seemed kind of shyly intimate to me. It hadn't helped that the dentist had placed the dental instruments on my chest back then which had developed early and was always super sensitive. I couldn't tell one time if the dentist had accidentally touched a boob by accident or he'd done it on purpose. That had made me uncomfortable a little. 

I suddenly realized, however, that if Perry did that right then I wouldn't have had a problem and felt my face heat up.

"You're blushing," Lyman suddenly commented, his eyes apparently leaving my mouth for a moment and seeing it happening. He looked confused and curious. "Why?"

"I'm...I...I'm nervous," I half lied. 

Perry nodded in his usual understanding. He continued on.

"Your teeth are still in fine alignment," he commented. "The gums seem to be in good shape also."

His face looked concentrated and focused as his index finger started to feel them. It felt good, his finger caressing my gums, sensual almost. I couldn't help myself. Not knowing what I was doing, I closed my mouth on his latex clad finger and started to suck on it. The whole incident caught us both off guard. Still he didn't remove it and I didn't stop sucking or playing with the body part in my mouth.

When I realized what I was doing and abruptly stopped, Perry quickly pulled his finger out and we looked at one another in startled confusion.

Luckily then the buzzer rang. I tried to hop out of the chair but with the way it had been tilted it was difficult. Perry pressed the button in a daze.

"Thanks," I said hopping out of it.

"No problem," he commented but his voice was strange and stifled. His eyes avoiding me as I left the room.

* * *

We spent the rest of the day ignoring each other. By the time it was time to close up, Perry broke the pattern by saying he would be staying late. It wasn't an out of the ordinary occurence. He often did; having incorporated his drinking and smoking into his workday, his office was as comfortable as a home to the man. What was strange was the fact that he had announced it.

Later that night, he phoned me.

"I'll be sick tomorrow."

Two things struck me as very odd:

One: how he seemed to be prophesying his own illness.

Two: the fact that this had never stopped him from going to work before. Another critique of the Health and Safety board. Even when he had a hangover the orthodontist suffered through it and muddled along.

"Are you okay?" I asked, feeling responsible after fellating his finger in the dentist chair.

"Is anybody?" he commented and hung up.

* * *

The next time I saw him, everything seemed okay. We just both ignored the finger sucking incident and tried to return to our former way of business. Except Perry had a change that he sprung on me at the end of the week when he handed me a large, flat, rectangular box.

"What's this?" I asked, holding it on my lap.

"It's your new uniform," he answered, folding his arms and leaning on the doorframe as he stared down at me.

Horror suddenly flashed through my mind. What uniform? How the Hell did he know my size? What if it didn't fit and I needed to tell him I was bigger than he thought? On the other hand, what if he got it so big it looked like it was a circus tent and I knew he thought I wasn't the size of only one elephant but several of the pachyderms, a couple of clowns, a lion, its tamer, some trapeze artists and an audience to boot.

I opened the box and grabbed the article of clothing out of it. Luckily it didn't look like the latter of my concerns but I still worried about the former. Infact, it looked like one of those sexy nurse uniforms people wore for Halloween. Or the one the girl was wearing on Blink-182's Enema of the State's cover. Only much larger. The darn thing was also white. A fashion no-no for big girls like me since it would only make me look even more huge.

"Why do I need a uniform?" I asked in confusion.

"I can't give you an answer," he deflected the question but he was looking at me suddenly very strangely, like he knew it somewhere deep inside of himself but that it confused him and he still was not completely comfortable with it.

"Oh," I replied, his confusion catching.

"Wear it right _now_ ," he instructed.

I sighed, looked down at the box but then stood to acquiesce. I brushed by Perry when I passed him and I thought he inhaled sharply.

* * *

To my great relief, the uniform fit. It clung in certain places, though, and was really, _really_ short. My chunky legs were on display and it was a good thing I had started shaving after I had started my new job; I usually wore slacks but my legs didn't look too bad.

When I emerged from the bathroom, my nerves on edge, Perry Lyman wasn't anywhere to be seen so I just returned to the office and sat at the desk. I rested my chin on the palm of my hand, my elbow on the table. After a bit I proceeded with my work, alone and with no appearance by Perry.

Only after he called me in to the examining room again, did he finally see me. His eyes went from my brown haired head, rested for a while on my chest and then fell to my sneaker wearing feet. 

"You're blushing," I remarked, seeing his face turn red.

"I got a tan from the dental light," he lied.

I swallowed it and ran back to my office.

* * *

A few days later, another incident occurred that redefined our relationship.

Bobby Womack, a sweet ten year old with a severe overbite, had come in and gone into the examining room. Perry had come out forty minutes later and handed me the boy's file. I was grateful for his appearance which saved me from an OCD moment: my mind telling me some catastrophe would occur if I didn't pick up and drop the pen ten times. I'd already done it four times.

"I'm done with this," he said. "Put it back please."

I took it from his outstretched hand and he returned to the room to finish his work. I went to return the Womack file back to it's proper place in the cabinet. There was very serious problem with this however: Womack started with a W and was hence in the bottom drawer. I knew that my darn uniform was too short. If I bent down it would hitch up and show off my butt, I realized. Still I was not very good at squatting and kneeling to place a file in the bottom drawer seemed ridiculous.

The waiting room was empty though and I could hear a drill or other tool in the examining room...

And I'd spent way too long arguing about it inside of my mind.

It would only take a second or two, I reasoned as I quickly bent over. As I did, I realized that I had been correct from the way I felt the fabric hitching up and the feeling of air on my ass. Why I chose to wear lacy red panties that day was beyond me, I had thought. But I knew the answer really: It was because I was hoping Perry would _see_ it somehow.

I was a _pervert_ , I knew.

That was the answer to that question. Even if he never did, walking around wearing them and thinking that he _might_ , turned me on. 

I hastily put the file back, closed the drawer, straightened up and turned around to find Dr. Perry Lyman standing behind me, staring at where my exposed, panty clad ass had been on full display and giving me my wish. I could only imagine that I looked like one of those cut outs for the garden, featuring big assed women bending over. Only Perry looked like he wasn't aghast at the scenery, despite his normality, he was trying not to smile. One of those naughty smiles little boys get when they've been caught doing something wrong.

"What were you doing?" he asked as I pulled my dress quickly down.

It was a stupid question one with an obvious answer. So I didn't bother replying to it.

"Why is your drill still on?" I inquired in return.

Bobby Womack suddenly appeared. "Bye Dr. Lyman! Thanks for letting me play with the drill!"

The boy walked out the door without looking back.

"He didn't make a follow up appointment," I commented, feeling shy under Perry Lyman's gaze. "Should I call him back?"

"Can't you phone Mrs. Womack this evening?" my employer theorized. "Make one then?"

"Why not?" I conceded.

Silence for a bit, our breathing was both uneven.

"Erin?"

"Yes?" 

"Can you get me the Zydecker file?"

I searched my memory. Although it wasn't the greatest I didn't recall ever hearing the name before in connection to the orthodontic business where we worked. "Dr. Lyman, I'm pretty sure that we don't have a client by that name."

"Oh," Perry said, eyeing me hungrily. "Are you sure?"

I didn't answer. Instead I asked, "Should I check?"

"Do you want to?" he returned.

Instead of answering this, I simply walked over to the cabinet and fearlessly bent down to search for the file on a client I knew we did not have, likewise knowing from the breeze on the flesh on my buttocks that Dr. Perry Lyman was once again given the opportunity to enjoy the view.

* * *

That night Perry called me again.

"I think you should be sick tomorrow and unable to come into work," he prophesied again.

"Will I?" I asked.

He hung up and I held myself, feeling bad. It seemed as if my boss had finally come to his senses and realized that he didn't want a fat, woman running around his office in little, red, lace panties. My mind was a whirlwind, the bully inside telling me that I had done everything wrong; that I _should_ definitely have picked the pen up the other six times since something bad _had_ happened.

I was starting to cry when the phone rang once more.

"You're better again," Perry Lyman stated flatly.

"Am I?" I inquired.

"You will come to work. And you will be rearranging the whole cabinets into a reverse pattern while wearing those same panties."

"Should I go and wash them?" I asked another question.

"Does it matter?" he countered and hung up for the second time that night.

* * *

We spent the next few days driving each other crazy with hesitation and lust. We'd flirt in subtle secrecy but then pretend that it hadn't happened.

He started to ask me to rearrange things in his office; all items close to the floor. Sometimes he'd watch and other times he'd excuse himself. All the while, I'd chastise myself for thinking he was interested even though he clearly was.

Things finally hit a boiling point as I was fixing the instruments on the tray over the dentist chair on a Leap Day. Perry's hand shot out and clasped mine. Our heads raised in unison, we started to slowly lean over and move towards one another until our lips were almost touching. Then fear got the better of us. We straightened up and I stared at Perry Lyman in terror.

"Why do you want _me_?" I pleaded. "I'm a mess! Overweight, my head is overcrowded with unwanted thoughts, I do stupid things, I'm terribly shy and I'm insecure!"

"Are you kidding?" Perry Lyman asked desperately his hands on the dental chair's arm rest. "Why do you want _me_? I'm a mess too! I'm insecure as Hell. Besides that, I drink too much, I smoke too much, I'm fifteen years older than you! My balls are only a few years from hitting the floor!"

"These aren't much better," I exclaimed as one of my hands each held one of my breasts.

"I'd still love you if you could fit them down your pant legs!" Perry suddenly declared so sweetly, my heart just about burst.

"And I'd love you even if you needed a shoe for your nuts," I proclaimed, my voice filled with proud sincerity.

We stared at each other across the dentist chair until suddenly we were kissing again. Our hands grasping each other, and our bodies losing their balance and grace, we fell into the tilted chair together, my plump body landing on top of his slimmer one.

"Are you okay?" I asked Perry, terrified, straddling his crotch. "Did I hurt you?"

Lyman just moaned and I felt something hard suddenly pressing into me. I knew what it was but asked the question anyway.

"Is that your..." I inquired, wriggling my lace covered perineum against it.

"What do you think?" Perry answered, close to embarrassed but obviously also more than a little turned on. I could feel the evidence prodding me after all. "You're not going to sue me for sexual harrassment, are you?"

"If I say only if you don't kiss me," I replied, rubbing against his erection a bit more freely. "you won't fire me for blackmail, will you?"

"No," the orthodontist laughed. "I think I will give you a raise."

"Why not," I said with a happy shrug. "I've already given you one."

Our lips met and his hands went to my ass, clutching each full cheek and eventually digging his nails in as the kiss became more passionate. I felt them through the thin fabric of my nurse uniform. As Perry Lyman lifted my dress further up to forcefully pull my panties down, I heard the weak lace tearing. My hands went to his belt buckle and zipper to set free what was begging to come out and play. I felt it as I looked down between us. It's reddened head was pointing up at me and it felt unexpectedly smooth to the touch. It was the first one I had ever felt so my fingers were enthusiastic in their searching. Perry moaned under me once more and I looked up from my actions to see his head gone back.

"Open wide," I giggled.

"Wise ass," he commented and clenched my naked butt cheeks now filling his hands. 

After a few more squeezes, Perry's hands went to the top of my uniform and pulled the zipper down. My cleavage was on full display and I felt my clitoris swelling from the way Perry was eyeing the swells of my pale breasts. I'd often gotten excited thinking about being in a nurse uniform and displaying my chest to my love like this (probably in large part influenced by a scene out of the Mel Brooks film Spaceballs) and right then my fantasy was coming true and my body was unashamedly reacting to suit it. My clitoris felt burning and huge between my legs while my nipples were tingling.

The sensation only grew as Perry hoisted my body further up so my chest was over his head, started to squeeze a breast, a finger playing with the nipple he could see pushing against the silky fabric and buried his head in my cleavage, his mouth kissing and sucking on the skin on my right mammary. I felt his penis hard, sandwiched between us and I pulled on it as I felt wonderfully pleased in return.

Suddenly Perry frantically started to pull the first part of my uniform down, exposing my bra clad breasts completely.

I started to protest him going any farther, trying to wiggle away, as he began to remove my bra but he was stronger and quicker than I was. My large but less than perfect breasts were revealed before I knew it and I started to cry out of my own embarrassment and shame. To my surprise, though, Perry Lyman wasn't disgusted. Infact, he started to pull on each nipple, sending another shock of arousal through my body as he lured them out. His fingers were gentle but confident and as he was using them on each growing teat, my breasts hovering over his head, I had the odd image that he was milking me like some farmer would a cow.

And I was _very_ much enjoying it.

"I had a patient once," Lyman stated as he continued to pull on each teat. "Justin. He's the one that got me over all that bullshit about spirit animals and incense and the like. Justin liked to suck his thumb. It gave him comfort and release."

Right then, Dr. Lyman was giving me comfort as his fingers continued to pull on each nipple.

"I told him that it was a nature's substitute for his mother's breasts," Perry continued.

I was in ecstasy as the orthodontist played with each swollen tit, making me rub against his balls and pull on his cock a little bit harder.

"But a thumbs a poor substitute for these right here," the man said suddenly grabbing an overflowing handful of my large breasts. "I'd take these over a thumb any old day of the week. Especially since you are definitely _not_ my mother."

I cried out as his tongue at first licked each extended nipple and then clamped down on one, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my cunt and similarly swollen clit. He sucked vigorously as his tongue drew circles around the piece of my anatomy inside of his moist and warm mouth.

"Oh...Perry," I moaned, running my hand up and down his shaft in an attempt to give to him some of the pleasure he was so generously giving to me. Feeling how hard he already was, though, I knew that he was getting as much out of fondling and suckling my tits as I was which made it better. I could never feel good in the act of merely taking.

When he had finished his attention on one teat, he turned to the other so it would not feel excluded and I was in pure bliss. My massive mammaries dangling over his head as he sucked on each one, my vision of being a cow being milked was replaced by feeling like I was one nursing her calf. Only Perry Lyman was no calf but a suddenly very lusty orthodontist putting his own mouth to extremely good use. A horny one too. The hot and hard dick in my hand was proof of that.

It was starting to leak now. My hand was beginning to get drenched with Perry Lyman's precome. Not knowing what else to do, I increased my speed, squeezed it a few times and rubbed its opening. I felt Perry suddenly pull my hand off of it. His hands grabbed each of my bum cheeks and in a simple, swift motion took my body and impaled my own wet opening onto his properly slicked penis, all the while, as he continued to breastfeed from me.

The fact that we both were so wet helped him slide into me with more ease and lessened the pain of him breaking my hymen. The additional discomfort of being spread wide by his organ was further softened by the fact that he was doing so well making me feel only bliss. For that was all I could feel then to be honest.

Another cry of pleasure escaped past my lips and I brought my hands to Perry's suckling head, running my fingers through his dark hair as he continued to alternately adore each nipple. I was being pleasured completely by the man whom had won my heart and accepted me for the mess that I was. My breasts were graced with his mouth, my vagina was clenching and filled with the blessing of his cock, which also hit my clit with his urgent thrusts, and my big and sensitive ass was gifted by the touch of his large and wonderful hands and fingers. Occassionally one would trace my crack all the way to the perineum or dip inside to massage my hole. My body had never experienced such an onslaught of sensations before in all the places designed for erotic stimulation and I couldn't handle it. I came in a violent fury, my body spasming as my voice set forth a loud series of sounds that at last turned into pitiful whimpers. Perry came soon after that, his cock responding to my vagina's desperate set of passionate clenches.

I was crying as I fell against him, my lover's mouth relinquishing its hold on my left breast, sliding down so my head rested against his white coated chest. 

"Shhhh..." Perry soothed as he stroked my hair. "You were so good...such a sweet girl. That was your first time?"

"Yes," I whispered, nuzzling against the soft cotton of his clothing.

"I knew from your reaction when I entered you...could feel you breaking down there, my little broken one. You should have told me," he said.

"I...I was worried you'd think less of me," I revealed. 

"I could never do that," he whispered and kissed my forehead first and lips second, bringing his hand to my jaw to lightly stroke my wet cheek with his thumb. "Infact, today is also known as Bachelor's Day over in Ireland, Miss Erin Kelly Smyth. Do you know what that is?"

I shook my head against his chest in denial, looking up into his soft, brown eyes.

He smiled. "It's when a woman can propose to a man. And do you know what question I am dying for you to ask me right at this very moment, Erin?"

I smiled shyly up at him before I both posed to him a question and gave to him an answer at the exact same time. "Will you marry me, Dr. Perry Lyman?"

"You even need to ask?" Perry Lyman answered happily with another question.


End file.
